2026-07-25 11:47:23
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Chapter 19: High-Elf?
Flames danced and crackled in the center of the forest clearing. Heat washed over the damp earth, pushing back the biting cold of the Ironwood realm. While Elian kept himself busy inspecting his weapon near the edge of the camp, Daniel took a seat on the ground next to the bonfire. He needed a moment to process the chaotic events of the day. He commanded his system interface to open. The blue holographic screen flickered to life in front of his eyes. He navigated past the common materials and focused on his most prized possession. He opened the inventory slot containing the Warden's Executioner Core. He skipped past the basic stats and locked his gaze on the specific warning at the bottom of the text window. [Description: A condensed mass of dark mana harvested from the ruler of the Forgotten Catacombs. It pulses with the heavy, unyielding resentment of the Undead Warden. Only those with immense Willpower can absorb it without losin
Chapter 18 – Please, don't kill me.
It was a staggering reality for both of them. They stood frozen, staring at the ground in front of them. A body rested in the damp dirt, leaning against the massive ironwood root. Dark crimson blood soaked the soil around the figure. Deep cuts and jagged lacerations ruined the torn leather armor. From the lean physique and the curve of the jawline, Daniel recognized it was a female. But the detail that locked his muscles and froze his mind had nothing to do with her gender or her brutal injuries. It was her ears. Long, sharp, and distinctly pointed ears protruded through the matted strands of her dirt-stained blonde hair. Based on their vision, there was zero room for debate. They both knew exactly what race this bleeding figure belonged to. "... elf?" Elian whispered. His voice carried a tone of absolute disbelief. For Daniel, the sight shattered his understanding of reality all over again. If he managed to return to Earth
Chapter 17 – Is it...
The cold mist of the Ironwood Forest clung to their skin like a damp shroud. Adrenaline from the ambush began to fade, leaving behind a deep, aching exhaustion in his muscles. He wanted to drop onto the dirt and close his eyes. He wanted just ten minutes of peace. Elian did not allow it. The young spearman kept his pace brisk, his boots snapping broken branches on the forest floor. "We need to keep moving, Daniel," Elian urged, his voice tight with lingering tension. "There is no safe zone out here. No place to rest. That ambush earlier could happen again at any second. The longer we stay in one spot, the more blood we attract. We need to speed up the process and push through this zone." He let out a heavy breath, his breath pluming in the freezing air. Elian was right. This Tower did not reward rest; it punished weakness. "Understood," he replied, forcing his tired legs to match the spearman's pace. As they marched through the thick white fog, he needed a distraction to keep his
Chapter 16 – Managed to Survived
Elian gripped the wooden shaft of his spear. The rough bark bit into his palms. He stared at the thick fog, his eyes straining to catch any unnatural movement in the white void. The biting cold of the Ironwood Forest seeped through his torn leather armor, making his muscles ache. He knew the Mist-Stalkers were out there, circling him, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He kept his breathing shallow. He prepared his stance for the next assault, knowing a single mistake meant his throat would be torn open. A shadow shifted on his left side. The attack came, but it carried a different rhythm from the previous phantom strikes. The Mist-Stalker broke through the heavy mist. It did not test his guard or retreat. The gaunt creature charged with its maximum speed, tearing up the damp soil beneath its clawed feet. Elian narrowed his eyes. He noticed a dark, malicious energy coating the tips of the monster's razor-sharp bone claws. The black aura trailed behind the beast like thick smo
Chapter 15 – Mist-Stalker
They stood back-to-back in the damp dirt. The freezing wind carried the thick white mist, swirling it around their boots and obscuring the dark treeline. Elian kept his spear raised tight against his side. The young man scanned the dense fog, his eyes darting across the empty spaces between the massive ironwood trunks. He waited in silence, keeping his heavy right arm raised. He felt the cold iron of his new gauntlet chilling his skin. "These things are Ironwood Mist-Stalkers," Elian said. The young spearman kept his voice down to a harsh whisper. "I heard stories about them from the veteran scavengers back in the Hub-World slums. They are native only to the second floor. You will never find them outside of this specific forest. The name comes from their hunting ground, but their true terror lies in their passive skill." He listened intently. Knowledge meant survival in this death game. He kept his eyes locked on the gray void ahead. "What kind of skill?" he asked. "They use the t
Chapter 14 – Reasons to Survives
They pushed through the damp undergrowth for what felt like hours. Every step dragged heavier than the last. The thick fog of the Ironwood Forest offered no comfort, only a freezing chill that bit into their skin. Neither of them spoke a single word. The silence stretching between them carried the heavy weight of the massacre they had just witnessed. Eventually, the endless rows of ironwood trees broke, revealing a massive, overturned tree root. The hollow space beneath the jagged wood provided a natural, hidden cave. It was secluded enough to block the biting wind and obscure them from the main path. He gestured toward the hollow. Elian gave an exhausted nod. They crawled into the dark space and collapsed against the damp dirt walls. They did not light a campfire. The risk of drawing attention in this cursed forest was too high. They just sat in the dim gray light, catching their breath. He leaned his head back against the cold earth and closed his eyes. But closing his eyes offe
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